


keep coming back for more

by meanderingsoul



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, Last Kiss, Memories, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:10:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: It turned intotheirsecret though, that she'd forgotten and he remembered, that she'd ask without expecting the answer and he'd tease her.





	keep coming back for more

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kisses and first kisses prompt given for the aossmutweek event! This was the _fourth_ fic concept I tried writing for today but I'm very pleased with how it turned out :)
> 
> Title is from Comin Back from the Crystal Method's Vegas album.

Melinda had always found it kind of funny she couldn’t remember her and Drew’s first kiss.

She didn’t remember if it was the first or second date, was hello or goodbye. She knew it’d been before the third date when they’d made out behind her building afterwards, long kisses and hands under shirts.

And he’d felt amazing, everything she liked about a man’s touch. Big hands on her hips and sturdy shoulders under her palms and patient kisses. But he’d asked questions throughout dinner and she hadn’t dodged them all as well as she should have and she was annoyed.

Andrew remembered but had always laughingly refused to tell her about it, saying he had to have just the one secret all for himself in this relationship. No matter what she did he never gave her a hint, including spraying him with the hose in the backyard.

It turned into _their_ secret though, that she'd forgotten and he remembered, that she'd ask without expecting the answer and he'd tease her.

Natasha and Barton, Maria and Phil all teased her for almost breaking up with her husband instead.

The kiss she remembered was after the fourth date. She’d almost cancelled and he’d had to reschedule and they finally met up at an Italian food dive near the clinic where he’d been working. The weather was miserably damp and he’d been a little late and over bowls of ravioli, homey and filling even for her metabolism, he’d talked about his research. Animated and in detail, bright-eyed describing exactly where his focus was and what he was hoping to find.

Melinda asked all of two questions and got the kind of concise, useful answers she couldn’t hope to get from some of her field commanders. He didn’t get frustrated when she only hummed instead of coming up with something inane to say. When she said something wry in the middle of his complaints about the DSM-IV he’d laughed. 

Dinner lasted an hour longer than she’d thought and ended with a diagram of a brain drawn on the back of the check and empty bowls and a walk outside neither of them were dressed for.

Then he’d apologized for talking about work so much.

She’d tugged him around a corner and kissed him, hands on his hips and balanced on her toes. A slow give and take, a hum when she licked into his mouth. 

His hands wrapped around her arms, stroking, and he made an appreciative sound at the muscles of her biceps, not surprise.

When she’d finally pulled away she said, “It was nice to meet you,” which shouldn’t have made sense, but that was how it felt.

Andrew had hummed a laugh low in his chest, stroked her cheek with his thumb. The haircut had changed over the years, but those two things became so familiar.

“Maybe I’ve been trying too hard, huh beautiful?” he'd said warmly.

Melinda had smiled wide.

She’d gotten used to it quickly, to lush kisses during sex. To good-bye, good-morning, hello. Used to habits for how she kissed him going into the field. To refusing to kiss him after he’d drank coffee. To a kind of warm contentment she’d never expected to feel.

Some stood out in her memory.

The shivery, breathless joy of the kiss when she’d finally managed to nod after he proposed. The feel of the slick skin of his chest under her lips, warm in the shower. The kiss after she’d been gone undercover two months, desperate and with Drew pretending he hadn’t cried when he saw her.

So many kisses quiet and easy on the glider on their back porch. The tenderness of it when they’d decided to try for a baby. In the Shield hospital where she’d been for almost two days before he was finally allowed in to see her, because she’d made Phil promise not to let him in before she wouldn’t scare him and it’d taken her that long to know where she was. Inside the door of their empty new house, the echo when they laughed. Kissing the base of his cock through his open slacks on their wedding night.

There were even kisses she’d almost rather forget.

Scrubbing her mouth after the mission and then trying to drown herself with his touch after she’d had to kiss the target to keep cover. The kiss three days after the worst fight they ever had. She remembered when he’d kissed her hello picking her up from the airfield after Bahrain and she hadn’t moved to kiss back. Couldn’t.

Never did.

Then he’d kissed her cheek years later in an empty room on the Playground base before she’d been the one to desperately kiss his mouth, because she was terrified and he was the only one awake who knew her well enough to see it, because Skye was asleep in medical and Phil was still unconscious after surgery.

Making out drunk for the first time in ages, raiding Phil's desk instead of his kitchen, side by side with Andrew on the floor like it hadn’t been almost eight years.

Sprawled across the bed on vacation, Andrew pressing hot wet kisses on every new scar she had. She'd whined desperately when he lovingly kissed her sex because no one had touched her like that before or in the years since she left him. 

Dragging his face back up to hers because it just wasn't enough yet. She needed to relearn how it felt to suck softly at the shape of his lips, stroke his tongue with hers, relearn him though his body didn't seem to have changed.

That last, lingering goodnight kiss on the island, leaning up into his touch before he climbed into bed.

They’d always gone for kisses over hugs, over verbal i-love-yous unless it was over the phone. She’d never given it much thought at the time. It was just how they were.

Melinda remembered so many kisses, but not their first. She'd never know.

She remembered their last perfectly, because she’d never expected it to be their last. All those missions she’d gone on, never letting herself kiss Andrew like it might be a goodbye but still memorizing it until she got another anyway, their last was on her way out the door for groceries.

Sweet and familiar, her hand on his chest. She’d been hopeful and nervous, trying to decide if she wanted her husband back for good, her career back at all. Driving through where she’d used to live hadn’t helped. Surreal.

Then he was gone. He was just gone and the man that came back eventually was never really the same and they both knew it.

And even though they’d given her the chance, for the second time she hadn’t managed to kiss him goodbye.


End file.
